


Wrong Way Round

by Laylah



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Almost Fluff, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Community: homesmut, Except Makaras, F/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:29:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's not purrlite to tease," she says, and you know she ain't mad for real—nothing else feels like the prickle-hot in your pan of Meulin being pissed—but you scoot a little closer all the same.</p><p>"Shit, kitten, you know I'm all being a rude motherfucker," you say. "Thought you liked me that way."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrong Way Round

**Author's Note:**

> For anon on the kink meme: _Anal fingering, rimming, toys, whatever you like; Meulin as the recipient and Kurloz worshipping her gorgeous butt. The smuttier the better!_
> 
> About those tags: on the Makara scale of fucked up, this is pretty chill -- they are both having a good time all the way through -- but it does feature Kurloz's inability to leave other people's minds alone, so if emotional manipulation is a hard limit for you this might be a good time to hit the back button.

Ain't nobody looks finer than your pretty kitten in the moonlight, climbing the hill in front of you, on up to your favorite picnic spot. Her little tail goes swishing all saucy behind her, peeking out under her skirt, and you can't take your eyes off it. You know what it means when she goes wearing her tail, and it gets you plenty fucking hungry for something you ain't carrying in no picnic basket.

The picnic's fine, too, you wouldn't want to go seeming ungrateful for this sweet little slice of paradise. The two of you all sprawled out on the blanket and feeding each other, passing a joint back and forth. The nip makes everything a little slower, a little brighter, a little more real. You're good to take your time, appreciate each moment as it comes.

'Sides, just chilling out means Meulin comes after you, pushing the picnic basket out of her way so she can slow-motion pounce and put you on your back. You smile up at her, dreamy and calm, looking at those pretty bright eyes, them scattered little freckles on her cute snub nose. She leans down over you, hands on your shoulders. " _I_ would have thought," she says, "you'd want to _play_ with me."

"Aw, yeah?" you ask. You run your hands up her bare warm thighs, the pads of your fingers and barely any clawtip at all. "Not just a picnic, you up and brought me dessert, too?"

Meulin giggles, and squirms down into your lap. "What do you think?"

You grin as you catch hold of her glutes in both hands and squeeze. "I think if I don't get me a motherfucking taste pretty soon I might straight-up die."

She grinds down, the slit of her nook against your crotch. "So what are you waiting fur?"

"That fine-ass invitation," you say, and you tip her out of your lap as you sit up. She goes sprawling, loose and easy, your sweet little kitten as wouldn't fight you over anything. Her skirt's all rucked up so you can see the long smooth length of her thighs, and the soft round swell of her glutes, all bare with her tail peeking out between 'em.

Cause this is the thing ain't nobody knows but you: that tail your sweetheart wears got no straps anywhere. It ain't held on, it's held _in_ , her hot little chute squeezing the plug end of it, sliding it back and forth with every step she takes. No wonder she's all ready to pounce on you when you just been getting your relax on.

You get on up behind her and she wiggles onto her knees, thighs spread nice and wide, glutes lifted up to you like an offer. When you trail one fingertip down from her tailbone into the crease between her glutes she mewls, arching up toward you. So you spread her with both hands, soft flesh giving nice and easy, with a solid core of muscle under all that plush. The gray of her skin flushes just a little green down that line, gets richer right around her chute where the tail plug's got her stretched.

"My kinky little kitten," you say, and you watch how she clenches just a little around the plug, how that makes her tail twitch. "Motherfucking beautiful, right here."

She mewls again, hungry for more than she's got, and it ain't like you could blame a sister for a thing like that. You take hold of the base of the plug and rock it back and forth a little, give her a little more action to feel. Fuck, but it's pretty how she trembles. You got a steady pulse starting up in your nook, your bulge getting thicker.

"Mrrr," she pleads, swallowing most of it as she squirms. "Morrrrrrre." You got to chuckle.

"Give you plenty more, kitten, don't you up and worry none," you promise. You get your own pants all out of the way before they can make any trouble, and then you get your kitty by the tail again and pull just a little.

The plug's made of four little balls stuck together, and you pull out just one of them. Meulin shudders, and you can see how her hole clutches at the plug as it moves. Needs a little something to make it slicker, make it easier to move. Well. You got just the thing.

You get your other hand down between your own legs, catch up some of the slick from your nook and smear that on the thick base of the plug before you push it back in. Meulin whines, digging her claws into the dirt at the blanket's edge. She ain't too good at words when you play like this, but she makes her point pretty damn fine all the same.

You fuck the plug in and out of her chute, nice and slow, making sure to get plenty of your slick on there. You wipe up a little extra from her thighs, too, get it slippery enough that it slides easy—so you can pull it almost all the way out, leave just one little bulb up there, and then push the whole thing back in again. When you breathe in you can smell her nook, musky sweet, all dripping wet with nothing to fill it while her chute gets all the attention instead.

Filthy motherfucker like you are, you think that makes it better. You lean down and bite the soft curve of her glutes. Not like a mean-ass bite or anything—you ain't got a single blackwicked thought about your little kittybitch—just enough to show some appreciation for this fine piece of tail you're playing with. She yowls, the way that means you should do that again.

Shit, you can take a hint. You scatter little sucking bites all across those sweet curves, leave a map of olive bruises to show where you been, show just where you're up and staking your fucking claim. She squirms and mews and purrs, all them little signs you're taking her apart just right.

You sit up, pulling her tail-plug out all the way at last, and her spine curves all up in a bow. "Purrleeaase," she says, looking back over her shoulder at you, and you got to laugh.

"Looks like all them people as think you can't make a purrbeast beg are missing out," you say, and Meulin pouts at you.

"It's not purrlite to tease," she says, and you know she ain't mad for real—nothing else feels like the prickle-hot in your pan of Meulin being pissed—but you scoot a little closer all the same.

"Shit, kitten, you know I'm all being a rude motherfucker," you say. The tip of your bulge slides between her thighs and you catch it before it can sink into her nook. "Thought you liked me that way."

You feed the tip of your bulge into her stretched-open chute and it gets the idea real quick, squirming further into the sweetest tight heat you ever fucking heard of. "Oh," your little kitten breathes, "oh, oh, _ahn_ ," and you sit back on your heels, pulling her with you so you get her right in your lap, those sweet soft glutes right up against your thighs while she sits on your bulge.

A little of her frustration bleeds through as you nuzzle up against her neck, this sweet tangle of messed up feelings that you motherfucking love—where having you up her chute makes it real obvious how empty her nook is, where she wants something in there but also wants to keep wanting it instead of getting it. You get your arms tight around your kitten and purr, cause you're the luckiest motherfucker alive to have a kinky little bitch like this up in your flush. You let a little of your own feelings spill over where she can enjoy it, how motherfucking _satisfying_ it is to get your bulge tucked up tight and pulsing in her hot little hole. Meulin throws her head back and yowls, her bulge all tying knots in her skirt, her nook dripping on your thighs.

Her chute can't milk you quite like a nook could, but it don't even matter. It's tight enough that every little twitch and shiver runs right through you, makes you pulse and throb and _want_. You like it better like this, doing it the wrong way round, stuffing it up her chute when she's got a perfectly good nook dripping wet and waiting for you. Sweetest little tail you ever saw, and she lets you fuck her in it.

When you come it kinda sneaks up on you, like you been just enjoying the ride, cruising along and not thinking about where you're headed until bam, you're there, pumping your slurry up into her in long pulses, crooning into the thick mess of her hair. She's trembling too, moaning, cause it always makes her feel good when you come—even if you could hold back and stay out of her pan then, why would you? She makes you feel that good, you wanna share.

After, you can feel the little flutter of her wanting more clearly, little battering wings in your mind. She still ain't so much as touched her bulge, though. Fuck, she's so good to you.

"Here, kitten, lemme get a good look at you," you say, and you ease her on forward, out of your lap and onto her hands and knees. You pet her shivery lovebitten little butt, squeezing soft flesh between your hands. "Help me out here and spread 'em for me, chica."

She does, tucking her knees under herself and just leaving her pretty ass in the air, reaching back and holding her cheeks spread so you can see her chute. "More," she pleads as you run your thumb down that crease and rub the swollen, flushed skin right at her hole. There's a little smear of your slurry there, and she's still loose enough that you can sink a couple fingers back in easy. You finger her slow and lazy, twisting your hand, and when you spread your fingers a little, more of your slurry drips back out. She squirms back against you like she's trying to get your fingers to fuck her instead of just holding her open.

"Don't you worry none, babe, I got you," you promise, but you ain't in no hurry. You spend a little more time with your fingers up there, stroking and teasing, until there ain't so much of your mess still in her. Then you slide your fingers out, lean down, and give her a slow, lazy lick.

Meulin _howls_ , like it's gonna wreck her if you keep going and wreck her worse if you stop. You press in closer and run your tongue over her tender little hole, letting her anticipation jangle in your pan, and when you push your tongue into her you push back with your mind, too, tweaking all the little frustrated parts where she thinks she's not getting enough, changing them around so the good parts are better, hotter, more intense. You can still taste yourself inside her, smell the musk and sweat of her skin, and you push your tongue up her ass as far as it'll go. 

Your bulge got in her deeper, but you weren't up in her pan so much then. Now you tease your way into her mind the same time as you tonguefuck her chute—finding the part of her that thinks this shit is all squirmywrong and twining that right in with the part that thinks it feels good, giving them both a boost. Her sweet round cheeks tremble against you and you work your tongue in her as much like a bulge as you can, push-and-retreat, curling up at the tip like you're looking for her seedflap someplace you know you ain't gonna find it. Wrong part of you up the wrong part of her, and that makes you grin against her flesh, motherfucking pleased with yourself.

"Please," she's moaning, "please, please, purrlease," and ain't nothing like hearing your pretty kitten beg for you. You hum, growl in your throat as you play with her hole. One more little nudge in her mind is all it's gonna take. You push a little harder against those good-hot-wrong feelings, turn up the volume on 'em until it makes her body sing with tension and those pleas turn into a broken little set of gasps, "oh, oh oh—" and she goes off like that, your little firework, chute clenching-fluttering around your tongue and the smell of her come sudden and rich enough to make you dizzy.

When you pull back you gotta stop for a second and just admire that pretty picture, her chute all flushed and stretched enough it ain't closed back up right away, her nook underneath all plump and sloppy wet. Might just help yourself to another go if you could get your junk on board again that fast.

But you need more recovery time than that, no matter how cute Meulin is, so you just flop down on the less messy part of the blanket and pull her over with you. Her face is bright green and when you arch an eyebrow at her she gets the giggles, burrowing into your side. A good come does that to her sometimes, makes her all floaty and silly. You lie there and let the feeling roll over you, one arm around her loose and easy.

Plenty of time left before sunrise, from the look of the stars up there. In a little bit you're gonna get up and raid the picnic basket, and then maybe you're gonna do this all over again.

Ain't nobody got it as good as you.


End file.
